Senses
by dontpokemepleez
Summary: Feliciano goes into battle to make up for abandoning Ludwig. Can he survive it? Will it drive him insane? OOC, character death, shonen-ai. Not yaoi. SORRY!


**Senses**

_**DPMP: Okay, y'all, I know you never read this anyway but I don't want to get sued. With me right now is Germany and Italy, the stars of this scrap of trash I call my fanfic and possibly the most adorable couple ever.**_

_**Italy: Ciao~!**_

_**Germany: Guten tag.**_

_**DPMP: Now, I know you're probably not even reading this and you skipped this little bit here, but I don't want to get sued, so I'm writing this now.**_

_**Germany: Just get on with it.**_

_**DPMP: Okay, but first I want to warn you that this was written late at night while I was in an emo mood. I would have written some nice R-18 stuff for you all but instead I wrote this. So yeah. Italy is OOC and there's lots of death and blood. LOTS OF DEATH AND BLOOD, GOT IT? I used Google translate, and you can too. I'm not listing the translations, sorry.**_

_**Italy: Germany, what's "R-18"?**_

_**Germany: ANYWAY, DPMP doesn't own Hetalia or the characters in it. Just her own perverse mind and a soda.**_

It upset me, really, to leave them and go out into the heat of battle like I was doing now. I felt hot tears slide down my cheeks as I prepared for the onslaught of desperate cries for help and the suffocating aroma of blood and death. I was prepared this time for the sight that would haunt me for years to come… given that I survive, that was.

I didn't bother to reach up and touch the pendant that would usually hang around my neck; I had left that with Ludwig. I didn't think to reach into my pocket and finger the good luck charm Kiku gave me in celebration of my pact with Ludwig. I didn't deserve luck. I had broken our promise and turned against him.

I instead lifted my arm to pull in front of me the gun strapped to my uniform. I waited…

There. There was the sound of men fighting and dying. I waited.

There was the sound of footsteps approaching. I waited.

"There!" a man yelled, and I knew my wait was over. I lifted my gun and ran toward the voice, screaming out in defiance.

The eyes of the first man I ever killed scorched into my brain. He looked so young, barely a man, and still a boy. His eyes were a sickening shade of violet. By the look of him he would be a Russian soldier. He looked like he was barely scraped from the bottom of a barrel, not one of the best and just thrown into the war with desperate need by his country. He must've had a family. Perhaps a partner and parents and brothers and sisters… They would never see their son again.

"_Perdonami_," I whispered to the body, running forward. "You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve this!"

How many men have I killed in the past five minutes? Twenty? Fifty? How many families have I shamelessly destroyed? How many wives and lovers have I left widowed and heartbroken?

I was a lover, not a fighter. That much was perfectly clear to anybody. Could nobody see the horror of what war was? I didn't want to ruin anybody. Nobody should die over petty ideals and mistakes. Nobody should be caught up in the rivalry between a man and his obstacles.

I kept whispering apologies to the dead, not caring where I was or where I was going. The sooner I die and reach hell the better.

I wanted Ludwig now. I wanted to at least hear him yell at me one last time. I wanted reassurance in his strong arms. No, I wasn't as much of a coward as I let on. I only needed comfort to help deal with the pain of knowing my people and his were dying. Knowing that the Allies' people were dying. I didn't run away because I was scared. I ran because I knew Ludwig would chase me, and remind me of reality. So that when he caught me I would automatically seek comfort and receive it.

I wanted comfort. I needed it. I wanted to close my eyes and wake up. But I was too afraid to close my eyes. I was too afraid to close them and open them to death again. I was too afraid to meet Death himself. So I continued to run.

I had reached the point where I couldn't stop. I would surely die if I paused. If I hesitated I would be killed. If I made an error I would pay with my life. I jumped away from mines and kicked grenades back into the ditches they were thrown from. I fired my gun multiple times. When I needed to reload I would throw the gun away and pick up another from a dead soldier and fire that.

I didn't die. I was living. I was surviving. Bullets missed me by inches, but mine never did. I hit with frighteningly dead accuracy. Men were piling one by one at my feet as I ran.

Despite the tears still flowing down my cheeks my vision never blurred. Terror kept them as clear as day.

It wasn't until I had reached a certain part of the battlefield that it registered in my mind that some of the uniforms were horrifyingly familiar… I continued to shoot at my enemies, though, not paying any more attention. That was until-

"Feliciano!" someone's voice cut through the insanity. My entire being was filled with instant comfort and I paused, finding the owner of the voice with ease.

"Lud-" I cried out before a horrible pain hit my chest, and another in my stomach.

"No!" I heard Ludwig yell. It was as if time slowed down as I started to fall. Now my sight was blurring. Now my mind registered what had been happening. I watched as Ludwig ran sluggishly toward me as I drifted to the ground at the same speed. My helmet fell off my head.

Time resumed, and in an instant I was in Ludwig's arms, being rushed somewhere safe. I hardly thought about the likely deadly wounds I had sustained. I closed my eyes and reveled in Ludwig's embrace.

But as soon as I had it, it was gone as I was set on the ground again. Ludwig was still there, fussing over me. But it wasn't the same. No, Ludwig sounded frantic and terrified.

"No, Feliciano, don't you dare close your eyes!" he yelled. "Don't rest for even a minute, _Gott verdammt_! Stay awake! For me!"

He was so frustrated with himself it was funny. I opened my eyes and smiled.

"Ne, Ludwig, are you proud of me?" I asked softly.

"No, Italy, don't talk," he said.

"Are you proud? I… became a better… soldier…" my body was weakening. I suddenly didn't want to move. I was too tired.

"Italy, yes, I'm proud of you. You were brave out there. But please, don't leave me-"

I lifted a hand slowly and pressed it to his mouth. His face was wet from sweat, but more water flowed down his cheeks than his brow. Is he crying?

"Ludwig, I'm not leaving you. I would never leave you," I said sternly. Or as sternly as I could manage. "I want you to live, Ludwig. I want you to survive the war, meet a pretty girl, and be happy. I will be by your side. We promised, and I'm sorry I broke that promise…"

"You never broke it. Please, don't die," he whispered. "I… _Ich liebe dich_, Feliciano, _ich liebe dich_!"

"_Ti… amo…_" I said weakly. "Ludwig?"

"Yes?" The tears were falling faster now.

"Kiss me, _per favore_," I whispered.

Ludwig leaned in and pressed his lips softly to mine. In that brief second I was happy. I kissed him back with little force. And then my senses left me.

I didn't feel it when Ludwig suddenly kissed me harder because my lips became unresponsive. I couldn't hear his agonized cries as he called out my name over and over again, trying to wake me up. I couldn't smell fresh blood as Ludwig himself was shot by an enemy who had gotten past, and the love of my life died with me in his arms, tender and loving even in death.

But fresh tears still escaped my eyelids.

_End_.

_**DPMP: Waaaaah, no, what have I done? I'm going to hell for this. I'm definitely going to hell for this. I just killed off the most adorable couple ever. I'm a horrible person.**_

_**Italy: Ne, but Germany and I are still alive…**_

_**Germany: Just let her cry this one out… In the meantime, reviews are much appreciated.**_

_**Italy: Reviewers get pasta!**_


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